CCP Chapter 7

Chapter 7

At the Priestley residence, the breakfast table was always occupied by only two people.

Most mornings, those two were Benjamin, the head of the family, and Wilhelmina, who had the peculiar habit of rising absurdly early for a noblewoman.

“This is truly outrageous.”

Benjamin grumbled as he read the newspaper the butler had brought him, as he did every morning.

“Why? What happened?”

“Our dear prime minister has issued another absolutely astonishing statement. Care to see?”

Wilhelmina took the neatly pressed newspaper from her brother.

“‘The Official End of the National Mourning Period… Now Is the Time for Everyone to Pull Together and Return to Their Daily Lives’?”

Hmm.

Wilhelmina handed the newspaper back.

“He means the mourning period for His Late Majesty’s passing, doesn’t he?”

“What else could he possibly mean?”

Benjamin clicked his tongue, more cynical than usual.

“Although, for all I know, perhaps he’s been privately mourning some hunting hound that died recently.”

“Surely only Her Majesty the Queen would be in a position to say that it’s time to stop mourning.”

“That’s exactly my point. Her Majesty only needs a regent for the time being. She isn’t some helpless child incapable of speaking for herself.”

With Parliament’s fierce struggle over the Regency Act turning Winster’s political scene into a daily quagmire, the intent behind the statement was painfully obvious.

Wilhelmina spread orange marmalade over a slice of crisp toast.

“So it’s an open declaration that they intend to completely sideline the fifteen-year-old Queen and let the cabinet and Parliament manipulate the affairs of state however they please.”

“Cough.”

Benjamin cleared his throat awkwardly.

It was the particular reaction he tended to have whenever one of his younger siblings said something audacious but undeniably sensible.

Wilhelmina glanced at him and cautiously probed,

“So what are you going to do now?”

“What am I supposed to do? It’s not as though we’re in a situation where I need to negotiate with Fleurence or Esparonia. If our prime minister had been spouting nonsense to a foreign ambassador, perhaps I would have had some reason to intervene.”

After another round of cynical grumbling, Benjamin shook his head.

“Good grief. At this rate, perhaps they’ll be announcing a ball next.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Wilhelmina said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world and took a large bite of her marmalade-covered toast.
The crunch was remarkably cheerful.

“No way.”

Benjamin stared down at the newspaper, his appetite visibly vanishing.

“Surely they aren’t going to take things that far, no matter how blinded they are by power?”

Wilhelmina snorted.

“If someone at the Obsidian Club suggests a wager over this, bet your entire fortune that invitations will arrive within three days.”

A few days later.

A magnificent carriage glided smoothly through Winster’s dense nighttime fog.

Inside, Benjamin wore an expression of deep displeasure as he tapped the toe of his shoe against the floor, producing an increasingly irritated rhythm.

“I may not be His Late Majesty’s most loyal subject, but I never imagined they would actually hold a ball in a situation like this.”

“That’s why I told you to bet your entire fortune.”

Across from him, Wilhelmina hid half of an infuriating smile behind the fan in her hand.

Instead of answering, Benjamin pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned.

“We can’t exactly help it.”

Wilhelmina shrugged.

“If I’m the only person in all of Winster who doesn’t attend a ball where the entire city’s high society is gathered, what do you think people will say? They’ll only become more convinced that the rumors are true and that I’m keeping out of society because I’m ashamed.”

“I know that perfectly well.”

Seeing Benjamin continue to grumble, Wilhelmina shook her head.

“If you really didn’t want to come, you could have stayed home.”

“Please don’t say such horrifying things.”

Benjamin’s response was almost a growl.

“If I sent you and Angeline into that pack of jackals all by yourselves, then tomorrow morning, Francesca’s shotgun wouldn’t be aimed at the man who started your scandal.”

He paused grimly.

“It would be aimed at my head.”

“Don’t worry, dear. There’ll be no need for a shotgun.”

The Duchess Angeline, who had been sitting demurely beside Benjamin and gazing out the window, joined the conversation with a gentle smile.

She stroked her husband’s arm affectionately.

“I’ll kick you out of the carriage myself before that.”

“…How very kind of you, Angie.”

Benjamin replied with an expression of resignation.

Angeline gave him a sweet, knowing smile.

“Think nothing of it.”

That elegant manner.

That charming smile, her cream-soft cheeks puffing up ever so slightly.

With golden hair that seemed to glow with an angelic radiance, Angeline looked utterly adorable even to Wilhelmina, a woman herself.

If someone were to sculpt a porcelain doll called ‘the noble lady,’ it would surely look like her.

Thinking this, Wilhelmina eventually turned away and quietly studied her own reflection in the dark carriage window.

No matter how she looked at it, the woman reflected there was a long way from the conventional image of a noble lady.

That wasn’t to say she was unattractive.

Her deep auburn hair, tinged with red, fell in alluring waves, while her almond-shaped, light-brown eyes gleamed mysteriously, ringed with green like freshly sprouted leaves.

But there wasn’t the slightest trace of the conventional feminine virtues of warmth or gentleness in her gaze.

Clear and keen, her eyes made her look less like a delicate lady and more like an intelligent bird of prey.

“…No one in Winster will be able to deny that you’re beautiful tonight, Mina.”

At that moment, Angeline spoke as though she had read Wilhelmina’s thoughts.

“Perhaps that’s precisely why the scandal spread so quickly.”

Wilhelmina grinned.

“Who would want to hear a scandal about an ugly woman?”

“If only there had been enough time to teach you how to speak properly.”

Benjamin checked his pocket watch and sighed.

Unfortunately, they would soon arrive at the venue of what was undoubtedly the most sacrilegious ball in the world that night.

As for the man who had invited them, Count Wilbright was, in every conceivable respect, an exceedingly ‘appropriate’ man by the standards of Winster society.

The two ladies descended from the carriage one after another with Benjamin’s assistance.

As they climbed the steps leading into the ballroom, Angeline linked arms with Wilhelmina and whispered behind her feathered fan.

“An appropriately old family with an appropriately respectable pedigree, an appropriately comfortable income from their estates each year. They also have a suitably large number of relatives to put to work whenever necessary, and two daughters…”

She paused.

“Well, they’re moderately pretty.”

“Quite.”

Wilhelmina answered with an utterly innocent expression as she met the gazes of those around them.

“I don’t think there’s anywhere else where the virtues of the Kingdom of Brighton have been so faithfully embodied.”

“The problem is that those two moderately pretty daughters have yet to receive even a single marriage proposal, and have already wasted two entire social seasons. I wonder what peculiar reason there could possibly be for that?”

“I’m not particularly curious about the reason, but I think I can more or less guess why the count was in such a hurry to host this rather improper ball.”

For parents without a son to inherit their title and fortune in full, there was hardly a heavier burden than two unmarried daughters.

Angeline gave a small nod in agreement.

“Count Wilbright is probably determined to get both his daughters married this social season, even if he has to stake the survival of the family on it.”

“But I doubt that’s the whole reason he rushed to hold such a lavish ball before the nation’s grief has even had time to fade.”

In truth, Wilhelmina suspected that another factor had played a major role in how quickly the gathering had been arranged.

In the House of Lords, Count Wilbright belonged to the royalist faction alongside Edward, Duke of Kingsley, and effectively served as one of Edward’s hands and feet.

At that moment, Angeline leaned toward Wilhelmina once again.

After discreetly confirming that her husband’s attention had been diverted by the surrounding crowd, she asked,

“My dear Wilhelmina, what interesting thoughts are going through your mind right now?”

“Who knows?”

Wilhelmina shrugged innocently.

But Angeline’s knowing smile remained firmly in place.